


An Unconventional End.

by Pixelatrix



Series: Unconventional Sequels, One-Shots and Alternate Chapters [16]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Family, M/M, Multi, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5655823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelatrix/pseuds/Pixelatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a companion piece to Unconventional and Unconventional Garden.</p><p>A one-shot from Rowan's point of view, showing the last year of the parents of the Unconventional family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unconventional End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the kudos, comments and subscriptions. It's like candy for a writer. =) It keeps me fueled to write more lol.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Bioware Owns all Sadly.
> 
> Magical Betas: CelticGrace & MissMeggo929
> 
> I almost feel like I should apologize for this---or at least offer tissues and ice cream. Chocolate maybe? A group hug?

Frailty.

It was something Rowan had never associated with her father—either of them.  Time had gone by faster than anticipated as it always did.  Now, age was catching up with all three of her parents. It was something which had been on the back of her mind for several years.

Little Lucas had brought life back into the family.   The six year old had rejuvenated her parents.  It seemed to have only prolonged the inevitable.  If she’d only know…there were so many things to ask and now…

It all came crashing down on her last shore-leave.  Rowan had come home for two weeks of shore-leave after her promotion to Captain.  She’d been given command of a cruiser and had come home to celebrate—and relax.

Running head long into a bawling Lucas had _not_ been part of her plan to relax.  Rowan lifted her nephew up into her arms.  She’d immediately picked up her pace toward Teagan’s cottage.  Finding her sister also sobbing in her husband’s arms did nothing to calm her uneasiness.

“What’s happened? Rowan perched on the edge of an armchair across from her sister, still holding her nephew. “Are you…is it…”

“Granddad got sick.” Lucas answered before his mother could gain some semblance of control of her emotions. “Auntie Ro? How come Granddad didn’t wake up ‘gain? He promised we’d go fish this weekend with Gammit.   Is he gonna be okay?”

Rowan’s throat closed up and her eyes filled with tears.  She bit the inside of her cheek to stem the flow.  Her hands came up to cover Lucas’ ears. “What the _fuck_ happened?”

Luke gave his wife one last hug then stood up.  He plucked Lucas out of Rowan’s arms. “How about we go see how Tulip and Daisy are doing?”

“Well?” Rowan quickly moved from her seat over to the couch to wrap an arm around her slender sister. “Is he…”

“This morning.” Teagan wiped futilely at the tears on her face. “Mom called to tell me.  He went in his sleep.  He’s been so tired lately—more each day.  He hasn’t managed the walk to the farm in a couple of weeks.  I planned to call you by Friday to tell you and Brennan maybe to come visit.  Gammit’s refused to do anything but smoke cigars in Dad’s office.  Mom won’t leave her studio.  He’s just…gone.”

Taking a painful, steadying breath, Rowan pulled Teagan into a hug.  She had known for a while it would soon be her turn to lead their family.  It would fall on her shoulders.  She had Hackett shoulders though broad and strong enough to carry the burden.

_How could he be dead?_

Even in his nineties, Steven Hackett had seemed like a man who could take the world on with a glance.  He had iron in his soul.  It was something Rowan had always been inordinately proud of.  She liked to think it had been an inherited trait—passed on to her.

“Has Brennan…”

“Luke asked Uncle Steve and Uncle James to go pick him and Terrance up.”

“Terrance?”

“His new beau.” Teagan gave her a watery sort of smile. “You’ll like him.”

“Anyone would be better than his last love interest—Teresa.” Rowan had disliked the woman from almost the moment they met.  Her instincts had turned out to be correct when the bitch broke her brother’s heart then stole his latest sculpture.  She’d used her Alliance credentials to hunt the woman down. “I wonder how she’s enjoying prison.”

 “You get this vindictive streak from our mother.” Teagan swiped her sleeve across her face then got to her feet. “We should go see mom.”

“You go see mom.  I’ll straighten Papa out.” Rowan grabbed a mug from the counter—Luke’s coffee—and chugged down what was left of it.  She needed something to fortify her. “Doesn’t your husband have a stash of whiskey anywhere?”

“ _Rowan.”_

They walked quietly down the path which led from the farm to their parents’ house.  Rowan found herself lost in memories from her childhood.  She had always feared the loss of a parent partly because they all seemed so close to each other.  She had the irrational worry that heartbreak might take all of them from her within a short time.

Her father was—had been in his nineties.  Her mother was now in her seventies.  Papa—Gammit—had turned eighty-four a few months back. 

 She’d wanted a lifetime more with all three of her parents. “Fuck.”

Teagan reached over to slide her hand into Rowan’s. “They took his body an hour ago.  I had to help…”

“Oh. _Fuck._ ” Rowan squeezed her hand tightly.  She had to take several short, hard breaths before tears no longer seemed guarantee. “He would want us to be strong.”

“I’m not like you—or dad or even mom.  Never have been.” Teagan kicked at the dirt on the path with her bare feet. “Gammit said my stubborn inability to fit the Hackett _or_ Shepard mould was a sign I was truly my father’s daughter.”

Rowan chuckled, sounding like her father, which hurt more than she’d thought possibly. “He was proud of you—of all of us. Never doubt for a moment we weren’t _all_ proud of our gardening sister.”

They separated in the small garden in the back of the family home.  Teagan made her way toward the studio in the back while Rowan headed into the house.  She found their papa slumped in the comfie leather chair which their father had always loved.  He had an empty tumbler in front of him with a smouldering cigar resting on the rim.

“Papa?”

He lifted his head slowly, staring blearily at her. “Ahh. Our young goddamn marine.”

“Papa?” She pulled the bottle away from him when he went to pour another drink. “Maybe you’ve had enough for now?”

“He bloody promised not to go before me.”

Rowan covered her face with her hand.  She didn’t know if she was equipped to dealing with grieving parents.  She hadn’t processed the loss of her father herself. “Papa…”

Zaeed heaved himself up out of the chair.  He snuffed out his cigar then moved around the desk to ease Rowan into a hug. “Sorry, kid.  I’m not at my best.  It’s been a goddamn nightmare.  Where’s your mother?”

“Hiding behind a painting.” Rowan made what was likely a very accurate guess.  “Little Tea’s with her.”

“And your brother?”

“On his way home.”

Zaeed looped an arm around her shoulders to draw her closer. “Your brother and sister are going to rely on you.”

“And you? Mom?”

“Do you know how proud of you we are?” Zaeed stopped just outside of the house.  He glanced over at the bench which had been her father’s favourite. “He loved having a daughter following in his—and your mother’s—footsteps.  He was fucking proud of how you fought your own battles.  You never used the Hackett or Shepard names to further your career.  We are all goddamn proud of you.”

“That a yes or a no?”

“See that? That impatience you get from me though.” He shook his head and laughed half-heartedly. “We’ll get through this as a family.”

In all of her years with all of her friends, Rowan had never seen a relationship as close as her parents had.  Even Luke and Teagan, who were so clearly in love, didn’t have the same intense connection.  It was that closeness which made her worry about two remaining parents.

A month to the day Hackett died—Zaeed died.  Rowan found him sitting in that damn office chair with a cigar on the floor.  She hoped he’d gone peacefully and painlessly.  She never told anyone, but she’d sat across from his body for an hour angrily sobbing into a cushion so no one heard her.

Teagan and Brennan had soothed their grief with their partners.   Terrance had proved to be a good boyfriend for her brother.   He’d been there for him.  Their mother had hermitted herself away in her studio.

Rowan had handled things as her father had.

_Alone._

 Relationships had never been her thing.  Sex didn’t interest her.  She had friends.  Wasn’t that enough?  She’d never felt the need for more.

Uncle Wrex had suggested she shoot something.  It had reminded her so much of her papa that she almost put a fist into his face.  They’d had a shot of ryncol instead—in Zaeed’s honour.

When Brennan called her six months later, Rowan didn’t even need him to tell her.  She’d known her mom wouldn’t last long. She’d become a shadow of herself, sleeping on the couch or in her studio.  It was as if she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in an empty bed.

They’d lost all of their parents in the span of a year—not even a whole one.

Brennan had spent hundreds of hours working on a sculpture of their parents.  He’d based it on one of their wedding photos.  Once he’d completed it, they’d thrown a party to celebrate their lives.  The statute now stood in the centre of the garden.

Though Rowan was the oldest, she’d told Brennan to move into the house.  She thought it would take a long time for her to feel comfortable staying there for anything length of time.  It brought back too many memories for her.

It took six years for Rowan to feel comfortable.  Brennan had eventually moved back to Milan—with Terrance. The two had married two years ago.  They’d adopted twin daughters whose mother had died in childbirth with no family to take the babies.  The girls were named Finnegan and Zoe. 

Rowan spent most of her time with her nephew and nieces.  She loved them all dearly.  _Auntie Ro_. She had no interest in kids of her own.  She could spoil those three and ship them off home for their parents to deal with.

She’d eventually made admiral—a week earlier than her father. 

She thought he’d be proud of her.

Of all his kids.

She often sat by the statue talking to all three of them.  Telling them the latest news.  IT was her way of staying in touch with them.

They’d been an unconventional family from the beginning after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Teagan's Face reference (the youngest child - but she has much darker hair - parents: Fin/Hackett): http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/110978463196
> 
> Brennan David Shepard (the middle child - but he has slightly more auburn hair - Parents: Fin/Zaeed): http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/110978533051
> 
> Rowan Finnegan Shepard (oldest child) face reference (Parents: Fin/Hackett): http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/110978428401/brittsis-asked-about-the-kids-teenage-adult-face
> 
> Terrance: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/136762105536/jilkos-daj%C3%A9-barbour-ph-kristiina


End file.
